


What A Lovely Way To Burn

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: 'yer a wizard', ???? - Freeform, Accidental Plot, Alpha Credence Barebone, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Auror Credence Barebone, Body Worship, Bonding through Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Character Death, Obscurus (Harry Potter), Omega Original Percival Graves, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Pastor Percival Graves, Porn With Plot, Protective Credence Barebone, Rimming, cookies for you, discussion of mpreg but it dont happen obvs, dispell the 'heat' rather, i like to use 'nomaj' instead of 'no-maj' ok fight me, one good fuck ought to do it, references to possible things that dont happen but there's a threat of them, reverse dynamic, that is such a random ass joke if anyone gets it, this got long oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-10 01:31:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11117079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Both their lives are changed forever, by a chance meeting.[Something is stalking the city, and Percy's worried for his sisters, under threat of losing them by Mary Lou, the fearsome leader of the NSPS or Second Salemers.][Credence is given his first spillover assignment when another Auror fails to meet the quota, and finds himself reuniting with the handsome stranger from a quiet church, in the most awkward of ways.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> not exactly an 'epic' by any means but it sure got long and exposition-y
> 
>  
> 
> oops.

It was a conundrum to be sure, for any and all who saw him but didn't know, they soon learned.

They would learn how mild and meek, delicate and pretty little Credence Barbone was no Omega.

He was an Alpha, a new sort, a different breed.

With his strength by blood came gentleness, and with his build, slender and waifish, he made friends among those whom he was meant to conquer, to possess. Most people believed he was destined to marry and mate and be a proud husband, but Credence had only one love, the law.

He was top of his class, graduating a year early to shame all his classmates, hand picked to serve at the President’s side, as her right hand. 

Seraphina was blessed to be able to ignore and go beyond her biology, leaps and bounds, as a guileless Beta, she was the voice of wisdom and reason, while Credence became her cool steady hand of justice and peace. 

Rumours swirled the halls of MACUSA about them, and him and another Alpha. Some even hissed and asserted lies, like Credence was merely posturing, pretending to be an Alpha while flush with blockers, and staving off a heat while feigning a rut every so often. He ignored them, most days, and proved them wrong, all the others. 

He had no match in combat, save for the President herself, and it was why he'd been hand selected to helm the visiting delegation on the way to London, to enter another country and a different world almost. Among the English, Irish, Scottish, French and German and beyond, all people, no majs and wizardkind alike were allowed to mingle, stifling and watering down the concentrated sects of the three that only appeared in pure wizardkind’s blood, Credence found himself with frightening clarity of mind and focus. So upon his return to New York, it was a literal gut punch, walking down the city streets, overwhelmed by scents and flavors accosting him after so many days kept in darkness, a virtual chamber of solitude, he was forced to step inside the nearest building to gather his wits. 

While he’d been in Europe, he’d hardly noticed the impression he made upon most, as the exact opposite of a typical Alpha, with only an eye for business, for work, and no care for mindless pleasures that his biology usually demanded.

He barely noticed the place he ducked inside was a church, until he was surrounded by a hushed audience of children, craning their necks to look over at him, while silence fell from the front of the sanctuary, where a man sat. He was holding a bible, and only paused mid sentence to observe Credence’s interruption, as he could feel his cheeks turning red, he pressed chilled hands together in front of his chest, murmuring apologies.

Now was not the time for confession or to cause incidents among no-majs, for they all were, even the man who watched him with curious dark eyes, he could smell it, it was the first clear breath of air he’d drawn since back in the city. Dust and leather and earth beneath a weak foundation. It was a brief yet welcome respite.

So Credence moved to quickly retreat, casting a spell for disillusionment the second he got out of the door, panting for air amidst the cacophony of nomaj and wizardkind again. How strange and bizarre it had been, to feel nervous with so many eyes on him, yet he had given speeches beside Seraphina to bigger crowds. His heart threatened to bust out of his ribs the entire journey home, even as he collapsed to safety inside his brownstone, finally surrounded by familiar and comforting scents. Vanilla from the candles in the windowsill, fresh lavender on his sheets, and his ever faithful decanter of century aged whiskey.

He poured himself a drink of three fingers over ice, and took up the chair beside the roaring fireplace, kicking off his shoes and leaning back into his chair to think. 

The enhanced senses and tingling under his skin was normal, but becoming more and more common. Could it be his first true rut was nearly upon him, and delayed only because of his sheer amount of concentration failing? In school, at Ilvermorny, he’d been dedicated to his studies, and puberty along with a rut had been mere distractions, eased quickly enough by a lengthy bath and finished off with a cold shower, when his hands became stiff and his muscles sore. He’d never dared impose upon someone at school, for he could not allow himself to be bonded so young, much less to someone he hardly knew but in passing. 

Seraphina was the voice of reason after all, she’d told him he didn’t have to marry ever, or could at least wait until middle age, as all men tended to, when not driven by their biological order. She’d worn a knowing smile for far too long after, and he suspected she’d merely been teasing him.

He couldn't help but wonder if he had been drugged by the handsome red haired man from England, or if it had just been that long since he'd gotten a decent bit of attention from another man. Theseus Scamander, war hero, was a formidable idea of a mate, and the fact he was a Beta merely made him that much more fascinating. Going into combat as such, practically blind to any enemy’s sight, and then to come out of it all with such a fervent lust for life, and even love, why, it was unheard of. Beta’s entire existences were to be  _ against _ allowing their hormones to control them, and there he was, yielding to it all when there was no need. Credence was admiring and at once intimidated.

Then there was Adam, from the Permits office. He had certainly been nice enough, but in the end, they had been fairly incompatible. Though tall dark and handsome, Adam had always seemed a bit off, and it was to Credence’s great regret to discover that the man had believed the rumors and thought him an Omega, only to turn away in shame upon learning the truth, insisting there was no way they could possibly make it work between them. Two Alpha’s would have no direction, no purpose, and deciding who would accept and receive would have ended in a worse fight, he knew.

The days immediately after at MACUSA had been awkward, though Credence had kept himself busy with work, as always, in time he grew to return the polite but distant greetings from the man, as well as his co workers who'd sensed the tension and subsequent dissipation. 

It wasn't until the President herself dropped him a memo, with strict instructions, namely, to ensure there was no repeat incident with a certain group, he realized something exciting had been going on while he'd been off to Europe. A creature or some kind of magical entity was demolishing abandoned nomaj buildings, somehow connected to the outspoken nomaj hate group, the Second Salemers.

_ “Contain this, or it could be war.” _

Seraphina’s memo had been curt and to the point, but he could read between the lines. One other Auror had already been suspended for being overzealous, Goldstein, a woman three years ahead of him, and Credence winced. She was bright and clever, he couldn't imagine how she'd let her feelings get the better of her in the field. She should have known better. He pressed his lips together as he scanned the file with gathered information about the group, and a stray note caught his eye.

_ ‘bible readings before dinner,’ _

_ ‘amount of orphans infected unknown.’ _

Credence certainly hoped that the President wasn't implying what it sounded like, for even the idea was enough to make him shudder in disgust.

 

* * *

 

He wasn't feeling well, so he asked Modesty to serve the soup to the visiting orphans that night, while he stood back, forcing a smile and massaging his stomach with a free hand that wasn't using fliers to fan himself.

“What's wrong big brother?”

Unfortunately the little blonde was too observant for her own good, and he coughed,

“Just a bug of some kind. Once my fever breaks I'll be right as rain.” 

He hoped.

So far the week had been perfectly ordinary since the minor interruption of a complete stranger on their Sunday afternoon bible reading. Percy had just been about to conclude the passage, and finish with a selection from the hymnal, but the door had slammed open, and revealed a slender and dark haired handsomely dressed man with an apologetic countenance.

Fitting that he’d stumbled into a church. Percy had been prepared to greet him, and welcome him, despite the manner of his arrival, but then his eyes had gone wide, and he’d shook his head, speaking soft and low, an obvious beg of forgiveness, before vanishing back out into the streets.

Percy had sent Modesty after him, to invite him to stay for supper, but she’d returned and said there had been no sign of him, and no one she asked knew what she was talking about.

He petted a hand through her hair, and smiled fondly,

“It’s alright. Perhaps he just didn’t want to be found.”

Most parishioners came to them by accident or circumstance, others when searching out a hopeless journey for food, which he was always happy to provide for. The church relied on donations from a rather tasteless organization, the New Salem Preservation Society, who worked constantly by feeding on paranoia and, in his opinion, unnecessary abuse of recent tragedy. The destruction of the north railway building by a thunderstorm was attributed to witches, and the sinkhole in west Manhattan was a result of the same, witches battling one of heaven’s angels.

Percy was not irreverent, he believed in Heaven and Hell, angels and demons, though he was skeptical that the Lord’s work was so concentrated on the state of New York, when there were plenty of other needy states and even foreign countries around the world who had never even heard from the bible.

Mary Lou, the leader of the Second Salemers, and he liked to think of them, was not of the same opinion. She considered the present, the here and now, what was before them, what mattered most. Not  _ ‘little people other places who we’ll never see, Percy, really.’ _

He gritted his teeth, and swallowed a groan of pain from the latest wave of  _ something _ churning in his gut. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he decided to go and lay down before he ended up losing his lunch around the children, or worse. He called out to Modesty to finish serving the remaining visitors, then it would be time for the bell, and Chastity could perform the first reading easily enough, she’d seen him do it numerous times.

He slammed the door to his bedroom shut, where he stayed, high above the church, was in an attic that served dual purposes, sanctuary and living space. He gave himself a moment before he fell to his knees, a quick and fervent prayer leaving his lips, for release from pain and a speedy break in his fever, then he was crawling to his bed, strength drained from his limbs, as he slipped under the sheets.

He was chilled now, and his hands trembled while he tried to tuck himself in, facing the wall, away from the setting sun spilling through the rafters and the small window at the crown of the roof.

The smells of the dinner, unwashed clothing of the orphans, and the squeaks of churchmice and worn shoes filled his ears and nostrils, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing it all to go away, so he could focus on resting, on getting well. The children needed him, and the church more so. A pastor was the most important part of the building, for he was the true foundation upon which it was built.

His mind swirled with thoughts he refused to dwell on usually, and ones that only made him more ill and concerned. The last time Mary Lou had brought her organization to the steps of his church, he’d seen a definite downturn in parishioners attending, those who did cited concerns, that the Second Salemers were a bit too… radical, for their liking, and if Percy continued to associate with them, then he would see his flock diminish. He did not like hearing such things, and he tried to impress upon Mary Lou that she was doing more harm than good, but his advice fell on deaf ears. 

She saw only her own cause, flushed with self righteousness, he feared what would happen if she gained more followers, or procured the favor of the politician she was currently pursuing. She had said it would be useful to have a newspaper that was on their side, even better if the newspaper belonged to the father of an up and coming mayoral candidate. Percy couldn’t help but feel worried, that she was losing sight of the Lord, and going after personal gain. 

She’d scoffed at him, called him a liar, and told him to be very careful of how he neglected the Lord’s work, namely, not assisting her with her ventures, lest he lose his church. Before that, he would have ignored her, and gone along his own way, but the second she threatened him, he listened. She had the power to take his sister’s away, and even adopt them, if she could only nudge and prod and prove he’d done something wrong. He feared little in the world, for all that he saw was merely the Lord’s creation, and his will was just if divine, but when it came to Mary Lou, he had learned to tread carefully. 

It was becoming more and more difficult to simply dance around her, and pretend that everything was okay when Modesty asked him, really, why were less and less orphans showing up, and the choir was shrinking just as fast, losing the more, well, comfortable members of their parish. It was easy to follow the money, to see that people tended to flock towards prettier things, and nicer places, even with the shroud of the Depression still lingering. It was horrible to say, but Percy almost missed the war. He’d had a true purpose before it, and then during, as it was after he’d felt the calling to the Lord. When death lurked around every corner, it would have been foolish to deny the offer of eternal protection and safety.

Now life was filled with just as much uncertainty, but none of the constant mortal danger. Slowly starving to death from lack of food was more likely, than ending up shot and bleeding in the street, but still Percy remained vigilant. He knew one thing, he’d give his life to protect his sisters, and that was it. 

They weren’t even really his sisters, but he’d found them wandering some of the less savory streets, just out for a walk with the Lord one morning, three years back, and he’d had some money, before he’d sunk it all into the precious church, so he’d given them their first real meal in a week, and gained their trust. Eventually, he had pulled open his shirt, and revealed his hand carved wooden cross, sworn upon it he would protect them, as best as he was able, and like lambs guided by their shepherd, they had never left his side since. 

Chastity was studying to go out and apply for a real job, a secretary job, at a small clerks shop, which he knew she’d do well at, if she just trusted in herself, and leaned on the Lord, while Modesty was learning still, and a bit unsure as to what she saw in her future. Her designs for a potential career changed every week, to Percy’s amusement, so all he worried about was ensuring she could read, do her arithmetic, and speak politely and clearly, should she need to do anything that would require answering a phone or filing accounts.

He knew he should have considered himself more like a father to them, than a brother, but it seemed like far more responsibility, and without any sort of mother, or feminine influence in their lives, it would have been incomplete, and far less than what they deserved.

So he was their family, their guardian, and they were content.

When he finally stirred, and there was silver moonlight gently draped over the floor, not golden sunshine, he knew he’d slept for a good while, yet still felt a chill, but there was no longer sweat dampening his brow. He sighed, and rolled over onto his other side, and froze.

He brought a hand to his face, rubbing over his beard, and then shifted his legs again.

There.

His other hand trembled as he reached down, and slid his palm beneath his waist, and lower, between his legs.

It was sticky, viscous and not liquid that dripped from him, but he was still very concerned. It was certainly not normal, not the sort of release from a pleasant dream that he’d need to worry about seeking penance for. He held up his fingers to the light, dim as it was, and they shimmered. Shiny and clear, the slick on his hand was not like anything he’d ever known to… emerge from  _ there _ .

Tentatively, he brought it closer, and a cloying scent filled his nose. Like an overripe peach, or a spoiled bunch of grapes that were more like wine than fruit.

He swallowed, and prayed for forgiveness, but he could feel it now, the way his cock hardened, just from the merest hinting thought, and he laid flat again, almost trying to sink into the mattress, to vanish, to shrink away from it.

But ignoring it rarely worked, especially when it was all he could think about in that moment. Everyone else was asleep, neither of his sisters had come to disturb his rest, or needed him for the service, so, he was safe, alone, allowed a moment of selfishness.

His clean hand returned to his waist, that time he let it drift below the sheets, still atop his groin, before pushing down, grinding the heel over his palm against the swell of his length.

A groan escaped him, unbidden, and without thinking, he put his hand to his face, cupping over his mouth, stifling any further sounds. Now there was slick on his lips, and he’d licked over them before he thought about it, forcing a ragged gasp past his fingers as he tasted the slick.

His hand worked under his waistband easily enough, as he’d worn no belt to bed, and in seconds he had his cock in hand, wrapped inside his fingers, stroking slow and torturously.\

How could it be that he’d never felt like that? He rarely allowed himself such indulgences, and indeed, couldn’t remember the last time he’d even felt any sort of attraction or interest in someone who could make a Godly wife. But did it matter?

He wasn’t even sure he wanted to marry, not when…  _ that _ was going on, and he couldn’t hope to explain it. More warmth slipped out of him, and he tried not to allow the tears to spring forth, from shame, from secret delight, but they disobeyed, slipping hot and stinging down his cheeks, as he pressed two fingers between his lips, and cleaned them of whatever he’d been leaking. 

His cock was now wet too, slippery against his palm, aiding in his movements, and when his thumb rubbed into the wetness, at the very tip, his back arched off the bed, and his eyes squeezed shut tight, stars bursting behind his lids as he came, spilling further warm slick into his hand, between his fingers, thoroughly ruining his pants.

He collapsed back onto the bed, panting for air, willing his heartbeat to slow back to normal, and he felt disgusting, even as his skin tingled from the pleasurable aftershocks.

What was  _ happening _ to him?

 

* * *

 

Credence found the group, standing outside of the massive nomaj bank, yelling and waving their fists, with a large, gaudy and fairly violently colorful flag displayed behind them, depicting a wand being summarily snapped in half by two hands. He couldn’t help smirking to himself, after all, he rarely used his own wand, being much more proficient at wandless and wordless magic anyway. In fact, he coughed, and then cast  _ divesto _ at the flag, causing it to rip in half, right down the middle, fairly interrupting the woman in front of it, and it was almost amusing to watch her go from pale to red to indignant all in the span of a few seconds.

“You see? They are here! They are listening! They are  _ angry _ .”

Just amused, not upset, Credence amended, and then stepped forward, curiosity getting the better of him. He was in disguise, and using a charm that would make people forget about him after a second look, so it took a moment for the woman to notice him.

“Tell me, how does one spot a witch? Do they all have long pointy noses? Warts on their chin?”

The crowd scoffed and tittered behind him, while the woman met his gaze coldly, blue eyes like twin pieces of ice, boring into him,

“No sir. They look just like anyone else. Like you, or you. You too ma’am. Your daughter could grow up to be one.”

Credence glanced away, and found the woman who was being addressed looked frightened, when she should have been irritated. To be accused of such a thing, even on a busy street in broad daylight, why, that could have been a death sentence just a scant century or so before, and Credence was astonished that people actually still went along with such a thing. Second Salemers indeed. He walked away, snagging a flier from an unobservant follower, noting the address, and stepping into a nearby alleyway to apparate close to it. 

He landed just inside the mouth of another alley, and upon exiting, turned the corner to find the very same church he’d chosen for a sanctuary before. He grimaced slightly then stuffed the flier into his pocket, and approached the door to knock. It was where the orphans were being served and preached to, and among them he hoped for answers. Children were bright, and talked a lot if they trusted the person they were talking to, so Credence hoped to glean a bit of information about the recent accidents, if indeed they were just that.

He hadn’t yet told Seraphina, but he suspected it was actually a child with manifesting magic beyond their control, the sudden outbursts, the random locations of the damage, it made sense to him, though he knew she would be more than skeptical without proper proof.

“Hello?”

He tried the door after a few moments of silence, and no answer, pushing it open to reveal the same sanctuary and rows of pews as before, but now, they were empty, and only the scent of people lingered, along with a few traces of a past meal, rings from overfilled soup bowls on a nearby table, around which smaller chairs were clustered. Dust still overwhelmed him, along with mold, and perhaps even mice saliva on the wood they’d chewed, and it was making him want to sneeze. That wouldn’t do. Nomaj’s could get sick from that sort of environment, never mind the simple unpleasantness.

Credence flicked his fingers at the floor, with a murmured  _ scourgify _ and the effect was almost instantaneous. Now it smelled like fresh baked bread, fallen rain upon newly turned earth, and something else he couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

He stepped in further, following the unfamiliar scent, and was led past a small kitchen, the source of the bread, and then to a door, which upon opening, yielded a set of spiral stairs. He was already intruding, and no one seemed to be home, or at least, for the moment, so what was a little further prodding?

Credence inhaled deeply, and instantly growled under his breath, before startling himself, clapping a hand to his chest, and coughing. What was  _ that _ about?

He shook his head, and began to climb the stairs, tempted to call out, but wary of sounding foolish, or worse, being caught by someone returning through the front door, so he remained silent. 

He  _ did _ cast a mild shielding charm, just in case, and finally reached the top of the stairs, the highest point in the building. He was in the attic now. He couldn’t help frowning into the relative darkness, as the only window and source of light, beyond the slats above him, was blocked somewhat by the building next door, halting most of the sun from where it was currently in the sky. 

The scent that he couldn’t place was much more potent now, and he couldn’t help drawing a fresh lungful of it, before instantly regretting the action, bowled over by such sickening sweetness, his eyes went wide, as he realized there was someone up ahead, prostrate on the floor.

No, it was a bed, but a very poor makeshift one, blankets piled onto a small mattress little better than a cot, and the figure was trembling. 

He wondered just how an Omega had managed to sneak past all the nomaj’s to take up residence in the church attic, and  _ why _ , until he got closer, and the pieces started falling into place.

“Please, help me.”

Credence almost fell backwards as he found himself tripping over something, shoes perhaps, discarded on the floor, his body going into overdrive, with only one thing trying to overrule all common senses and decency.

_ Mate, claim, take. _

His neglected cock twitched inside his trousers, hardening halfway in a painful instant, as his palms grew sweaty, and his glasses began to fog. He reached up with a shaky hand to pull them off, to fold them away for safety, and then found his words.

“But you’re a nomaj.”

“What?”

His voice sounded croaky, not his usual smooth lilt, to his own ears, so how could he possibly sound to the poor confused Omega,  _ formerly  _ thought to be a nomaj, in front of him.

Nomaj’s didn’t have heats, ruts, or any sort of association to the madness that created such potent division among wizardkind. They were lucky, the blessed ones living in constant ignorance and hopefully maintained peacefulness.

Somehow, he’d been wrong. The man before him, the dark haired and gruff looking pastor wasn’t just another nomaj, he’d been under the radar, gone unnoticed by both MACUSA and Ilvermorny, and lived around nomaj’s his entire life. Until the moment Credence had unknowingly stepped into his bubble and shattered that perfect illusion.

Guilt welled up inside him, not quite overpowering his arousal and clearing his mind that was currently clouded by hormones. 

He’d done that.

He’d triggered the dormant Omega’s first heat, by pure accident and chance.

“You’re a wizard too.”

“I’m a what?”

Credence tried to breathe in slowly, to think, but all it did was make him dizzy with want and need all over again. Fisting his hands at his sides didn’t help, although the sting of his nails into his soft palms momentarily distracted him from simply striding forward and just mindlessly  _ taking _ .

Mercy Lewis, the man smelled intoxicatingly delicious.

“How long have you been like this-?”

-Fever-mad, delirious, luscious and ready to be had.

“Three days. I can’t get out of bed, to do more than eat, or drink, or change the sheets, or I’ll…”

...Spontaneously orgasm and it won’t be enough?

Oh, Credence had heard horror stories about Omega’s who suffered through a heat alone. It wasn’t like toughing it out through a rut, unmated and unbound, oh no, it was a million times worse, and worthy of hospitalization in some rare cases.

Mercy, the man was probably  _ drenched, dripping _ , and near desperate to be claimed. Why was Credence on the verge of losing his mind? Hadn’t he been trained better?

He was Director of Magical Security for goodness sake!

He was not an Alpha who was commanded by his fucking hormones. 

Credence bit his lip until he tasted blood, and the man in front of him actually whimpered. That was just about enough, the straw that shattered his perfect control, and Credence fell to his knees, dropping down to bring himself to the man’s eye level, pausing a split second before their lips met, to ensure he wasn’t forcing himself on him, but he was not stopped.

His throat vibrated with a moan at the taste, the press and sweet warmth of the man’s mouth against his, and he could  _ tell _ that the Omega had been daring enough to experiment by trying it, touching himself and dipping his hand into that well of copious slick. 

Like right after a rainstorm, and honey mingled with cinnamon, it was all Credence could think of to compare it to, and  _ that  _ was just from a simple fevered kiss, barely a hint of what could be done, yet it had his cock swollen to completion, prepared to  _ ruin _ his nice work pants.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but once I start, it will be very difficult to stop.”

“What are you going to do?”

The man asked him, swallowing thickly and eyeing his neck, exposed quite nicely thanks to his open and high collar, but Credence knew the man was now highly aware of the lure from his scent gland, likely clouding his own judgement more than a little.

Normally, he could suppress it by covering it, hiding behind his collars and his ties and cravats, dressing a few decades behind the true era of fashion, though it became much more challenging in the summer months.

“I’m going to help end your suffering.”

“Oh. I’ve prayed and prayed, but this heat is like no fever I’ve ever had. I don’t know what I’ve caught, but I’m very sick.”

Credence couldn’t fight the smile that curled over his lips, and his hand was surprisingly steady as he stroked back a damp lock of the man’s hair from his heavy brows, and dark shining eyes.

“Nonsense. God gave us this biology, he can no more change it, than to give birds the ability to swim. I promise, you will be just fine. When it’s over, you never have to see me again. Alright?”

It was a lie that tasted bitter, sliding down his throat to burn the entire way, until it coalesced in his stomach and threatened to lodge in his gut, but he could see the sheer relief spreading over the man’s face from those simple words, and when he nodded, Credence sprung into action. 

He began to shed his clothing, coat and jacket, then undid his vest and shirt as quickly as he dared, without magic, it was a bit more time consuming and the temptation to rip buttons was high, though he’d eventually have to repair them anyway, so it would end up being the same amount of time spent. 

Once he was naked but for his underwear, he returned to the man’s side, and almost missed the way those dark eyes glazed over his entire body, before he reached down and yanked the covers away, he nearly fell over again.

The scent was more potent, and for good reason, as he was naked from the waist down, simply clad in a worn sleep shirt, with only a raggedy towel beneath him to protect the bed, Credence guessed. The man’s thighs were shiny with slick, and his cock laid on his stomach, drooling over his skin, red flushed at the head, evidence of previously spending itself soaking into the moss green fabric. How long he’d been lying there, ignoring himself, depriving himself, that day at least? Credence had no idea.

“Fuck.”

Credence was touching the man before he could stop himself, dragging a hand up one of the man’s inner thighs, covering his fingers in the sweet and clear fluid, before dipping down to caress over sensitive skin, enough to make the man arch his back and fist the sheets below him, thrusting up against nothing, his Omega nature giving in to the blissfully wanted and welcomed firm touch of an Alpha. His next orgasm probably took him by surprise, while Credence barely grazed a fingertip against the heated slit of his entrance, his own breathing sped up, and he watched, agape as the man’s cock lifted and spurted out pearly white strands over his sleep shirt, quickly adding to the mess on the fabric, and shifting with every exhalation.

“What’s your name?”

The man replied with a shaky tone, clearly unmoored, with absolutely no frame of reference for anything that was and had happened, though Credence could hardly blame him,

“Percy Graves. Just Percy is fine.”

Credence drew in a slow breath, and withdrew his hand to put it to his mouth, smiling around his fingers.

“Delighted to meet you. Credence Barebone, at your service.”

The next thing he did was climb onto the bed, a few wordless charms for enhancement of comfort and stability, as well as a rather subtle expansion spell, so he wouldn’t find himself accidentally bucked off onto the floor, before he gently nudged the man’s legs apart, and petted his hands over his outer thighs. He had never done anything of the sort, calmed or soothed a frantic Omega, deep in their apparent first heat, but he hoped that he was doing okay. 

“I’m going to help clean you up a little, alright?”

The man, Percy, blinked down at him, looking adorably confused, so Credence didn’t bother to explain, he simply got to it. Leaning in close, he put his mouth to the man’s shirtfront, licking over the still cooling lines of come, and then lower, until he was kissing atop the man’s navel, through the wet and sheer fabric of his shirt. It was very tempting to just vanish it altogether, but the fact was, he didn’t want to presume. He preferred being naked for couplings, casual or otherwise, though he knew not everyone did. So he merely continued to shift back and down, until his cheek was rubbing right against the man’s still hard cock. 

It was easy enough to kiss it, easier still to put his tongue to the side, to lick over the length of it, the silky skin heated, and pulse points pounded out a staccato rhythm, even before Percy groaned, and put a hand to Credence’s hair, somewhat unconscious and automatically, though he withdrew almost at once.

“Sorry.”

Credence let go of the man’s cock and stared up at him, as he was bracing his hands together over the much larger damp spot on his chest.

“No, it’s okay. You can touch me if you want to. For stability.”

He smiled slightly, and swore he could see the man’s cheeks darkening.

It took almost no effort to swallow down half of his length, and he kept his hands braced on the man’s legs to avoid any crushing discomfort, as he licked against it, and sucked gently, testing the man’s reactions.

“Oh god, god forgive me, that’s… I can’t…”

Credence hummed, and drew back slightly, leaving only the very head and a slight mouthful between his lips, feeling the instant the Omega lost control, finishing again, onto his tongue, and down his throat in a rush of sweet wet come.

Usually Alpha’s didn’t bother with so much care and concern, the first mounting would be over in moments, no thought given to an Omega’s equal pleasure and completion. But Credence had always been just as much of a perfectionist and self serving worker as he was a lover, he hoped. The baseline for comparison was very small.

Flings were not meant to be serious, and as such, anything went, most times. 

Percy’s mumblings under his breath didn’t deter him, nor did they encourage him, simply his own boldness and curiosity drove him now, as he let the man’s cock slip out of his mouth, and he applied his lips to the quivering thighs below, and he couldn’t help suckling the skin, nipping gently with his teeth.

It was a test, and the man’s subsequent gasp and full body shudder was quite informative. A bit of roughness was not unwelcome, though Credence knew he was always gentle, mounting in practice was never a breeze.

“May I?”

His palms curved over the man’s knees, and he nudged slightly, hoping the man could figure out what he wanted. He did, obeying at once, bringing his knees up to his chest, still fighting to breathe right, as he stared at Credence, slack jawed in wonderment.

Credence licked his lips, and returned between the man’s legs, now with infinitely more room, he could press a kiss just above the place he’d gladly push into, and sate the fever from.

It was glistening, pink to his eye, and fluttered when he touched it, just a finger tracing over the rim, and barely dipping inside, before he put his mouth to it, and swiped the length of his tongue over it, tastebuds exploding with more flavor than he’d been expecting, as his mouth watered, he tried to swallow, and nearly choked when more slick rushed out to replace what he’d cleaned up.

It was much sharper, and more concentrated than the Omega’s somewhat weak seed, not meant for more than just show, and he supposed, the illusion of power that was thought to exist in the veins of a man’s cock.

Credence knew better.

“You’re divine. You know that? Incredibly responsive and dangerously handsome.”

The words spilled out of him, flowery compliments and nonsensical flattery, but he couldn’t help it, not really. He’d been responsible for the Omega’s heat, for his revealing into the world, so he would praise him until he was no longer needed.

“Thank you… but I wouldn’t want to agree to such blasphemy.”

Man of God, right. Yeah. 

Credence bit his lip, and then nodded, placing a kiss to the side of the man’s thigh,

“Sorry.”

He straightened back up slightly, so that he was once again kneeling in front of the man, and then dragged his fingers over and against the opening that he could feel begging for a proper touch. He’d barely nudged a finger inside, when Percy was tensing up around it, and Credence saw his cock move, before pulsing onto his shirt again.

“God… why doesn’t it go down?”

He swallowed thickly, and tried to think of how to explain it. There wasn’t a way that would make sense beyond just getting on with it and fucking the man. Credence could help by distracting him though, so he put his free hand to Percy’s cock, and stroked over it, gentle as he could, though each and every touch made him tremble and there was wetness shining on the man’s cheeks, that he could only hope were tears of happiness from the overwhelming pleasure.

He certainly didn’t  _ want _ to hurt the Omega.

“I promise it’ll be over soon.”

It was only half a lie. He needed to get the man up to accepting three fingers with ease, lest it be extremely painful, despite the sheer amount of slick making his fingers glide in and out, but he could tell by the throbbing in his own cock, it wouldn’t take him long to knot and finish.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger guys...

Percy was drowning in sensation, while coming to terms that he’d need to beg for forgiveness and retire from preaching, tomorrow, all from the simple fact that he was being given such delirious attention and repeated climaxes at the hand of another man. He was beautiful, almost resembling an angel, but for his dark hair and liquid eyes, seemingly designed to ensnare Percy into them, to bending to his will, granting his every wish, if only in exchange for his soul.

Mary Lou had been right, but only about one thing, witches were real, or at least the devil was, and he walked among them. The moment that the man had entered the attic, even before spotting Percy, he’d been wracked with a new feeling, bottomless want, and further waves of slick had wetted his legs, along with a near painful erection swelling to life once more under the sheets. He’d prayed for absolution, and that maybe the Lord would hide him, shroud him in his protection, but still, the devil had approached.

He’d been very kind so far, and even tasted like spring and salvation from his lips, but Percy knew above all that it was wrong, so very much so. _‘Man shall not lie with man.’_

Clear violations of the Lord’s word could only mean damnation, but oh, how sweet the fall was.

He pushed down, against the hand currently violating his most forbidden and sinful opening, and felt further tears escape him, even as his throat burned with the need to cry out, to give in to the wondrous feelings flooding his senses.

His cock refused to soften, to put an end to his pleasurable misery, so he accepted it, and even begged for more, when the man’s hand was placed atop it, he shuddered from the touch, as he felt another finger pierce him between his legs.

It didn’t hurt, surprisingly, but in fact, wasn’t _enough_. He wanted more, God forgive him, and he suspected that the man did too, as he didn’t cease, merely pressed deeper, harder, another finger joining the first, curling and then straightening, as if in search of something. Percy’s eyes snapped open as he gasped, instantly knowing that somehow, the man had found it.

His cock yielded barely a drop of semen at that release, but still, his body trembled from the climax, and the man was speaking to him, quietly murmuring words of encouragement. Though he barely had a moment to recover, as the fingers left him, only to be replaced with something hotter, thicker, insistent. A long slow push, and there was something almost splitting him in half. His fingers dug into his own calves, leaving bruises that might last a week or more, as the man kneeling in front of him and falling over him groaned low in his throat, before surging closer, slotting right between his legs, driving into him so deep it stole his breath away, he swore he could feel whatever it was up in his own throat.

“You’re so tight… lovely, it feels amazing.”

The man, Credence, _the devil’s name was from the bible_ , Percy noted dimly, was leaning in, silently asking for a kiss, for one more trespass, so who was he to refuse?

Their mouths met in a wet and sloppy press, and Percy realized he could taste _himself_ on the man’s tongue, as he moved it between his lips, grazing against his own.

His arms were beginning to grow sore, so he let go, slowly, allowing his legs to come down, to brace at the side of the slighter man’s waist, feeling each slow move as he pulled back and thrust back into him, a wet hot drag of friction that threatened to set him afire, no need for hell, he was already there, while on a knife edge of pleasure-pain, it was impossible not to break the kiss to call out.

“God! It’s too much, I feel like I’m going to break apart…”

“Go on. I’ll put you back together.”

Credence nosed down the side of his neck, tonguing over his heated skin, providing little relief, until he breathed out, and Percy gave in, clinging to the man’s bare back with both hands, being driven into for a good few moments till it stopped, and everything went still.

Pain exploded between his legs as _something_ even wider kept him open, and Credence shuddered atop him, his damp forehead bracing into Percy’s shoulder, mouth wide and panting against his shirt.

“It’s almost done… I swear…ugh…”

After what felt like a handful of eternities, the pain subsided, and with it went the endless fever, leaving Percy shaky, lightheaded, and feeling very drained.

Sometime in the midst of it all, he’d come _again_ , and his cock was finally softening over his stomach, no evidence of his climax wetting his shirt or soaking into his skin.

Instead, he could feel a definite rush of fluid sliding out of his opening when the man withdrew his own cock, and he swallowed, wondering if he’d be left like that, gaping, and shivering like it was the dead of winter and he’d been dropped naked into a snowbank.

“Are you okay?”

There was a hand on his forehead, fingers caressing his skin, a thumb brushing away his tears lingering, that hadn’t fallen down to soak into his hair, before cupping his cheek, over the scratch of his beard.

“I think so… yes.”

He didn’t want to lie, but he was unsure, entirely, so he had just answered as best he could.

“I hope that wasn’t too agonizing for you. I don’t remember knotting so long before. Here.”

Something like an unnatural warm breeze kissed over his skin, leaving behind dryness where it had been uncomfortably sticky. Even between his legs, and he finally pressed his knees closed, effectively shutting the place off from the man’s sight.

“Thank you.”

“No, I must thank _you_ and also somehow… beg your forgiveness. I’ve not been that single minded in, well, ever. The good thing is, of course, that neither of us need to be grieved, as this was bound to happen. I mean, not with me. But another Alpha could have passed you on the street and triggered your heat. So, it’s probably better this way. Do you want to join me for dinner? Uh, I originally came here for some important questions, a business context… obviously that didn’t go as planned… sorry, again.”   
Percy watched, utterly bemused as the younger man began to redress himself, with a few twirls of his fingers, his own clothing flew to him, and seemed to climb over his skin, leaving him the well dressed gentleman he’d first seen.

“You, you want to go to... dinner with me?”

The mere idea was obscene, self indulgent, and reckless. Percy couldn’t leave the church, even if it wasn’t a night when he’d been promised to serve a meal for the orphans. What if Modesty and Chastity became overwhelmed with visitors, while he was off, being a perfect wretch, and giving in to his base desires?

Nevermind the fact he’d already desecrated the sanctity of the church by allowing himself to be… _had_ , by a man no less, inside his own bedroom. As he watched, the man moved around the attic, picking up a few pieces of his own clothing, and tapping it thoughtfully, leaving it transformed when he let go of it, setting it upon Percy’s bed, at his feet.

“Come now. I’ll have you back before anyone’s noticed you’re gone. I promise.” Percy reluctantly agreed, wary though he was, as the heat had dissipated from him, only to be replaced with a growling in his stomach. He didn’t see either of his sisters as he followed the man out of the church, and down the crowded sidewalk, he squinted to the sun, finding its place in the sky more than a little disturbing. The girls had gone out that morning to attend a bible study at a neighboring church, with the promise to return by dusk, if not before, and though it was lucky they had not caught him in any of his sinful activities, it was mildly concerning they had yet to return.

“Why did you call me a wizard before? Did you mean witch?”  
He blurted out, and Credence turned back, to smile at him in a manner of which that caused his heart to skip a beat.

 _‘Traitorous thing,’_ he thought, _‘it’s all gone wrong in my head, from a handful of the devil’s magical pelvic sorcery.’_

“You are. Only wizards and witches, sorry, that’s only what ladies are called, uh, people like us prefer the differentiation, have the design that we do. The whole, scenting, the uh, production of slick, heats, ruts, and eventual bonding.”

To his immense surprise, the devil’s pawn was becoming red in the face, as if embarrassed of his unholy nature, which he’d dragged Percy into.

“I see.” As far as he knew, he’d signed no contract with the devil, so he was not damned forever on such a path of unrighteous behavior.

“Do you though? If this was your first heat, the worst is over. But you uh, you may need to seek the company of an Alpha out again for the next one, which may be a touch awkward. Usually heats last days at a time, until an Omega is properly knotted. I am prepared to offer my services, whenever you would like them. At the risk of sounding pathetic, and like a loner, usually I don’t commit to such things. But! Anyway, that’s not the point. The question I really have for you is this, how acquainted are you with Mary Lou, of the Second Salemers? Or the NSPS rather.”

The younger man smiled to himself, and then blinked over at Percy, who realized he was expected to answer the latter question, while still mulling over the former.

 

They’d come to sit inside a very nice looking diner, which felt quite outside of Percy’s budget, or even a place he’d consider taking his sisters for a celebratory dinner, birthday or Christmas, but he suspected that the man was going to buy it for him, a way to sort of apologize for his rudeness, at least, he hoped so.

“I try my best not to get in her way, or on her radar.”

Percy blinked through the lie, and then reached over to take a sip of his coffee, while Credence remained silent, until the waitress had come by and taken their orders, to then retreat back into the kitchen. He was not sure exactly why the devil was interested in such a hypocrite of a Lord’s servant, but it would not do to put Mary Lou in harm’s way for the sake of vengeance.

_‘Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.’_

“I don’t know… unless you are unaware she hands out fliers with your church's address on it?”

Percy glanced away from Credence’s dark, piercing gaze to find a crumpled piece of paper sitting atop the metal table, accusingly reading in block print where exactly to go if one wanted to hear more truth. But he didn’t espouse the same values, he didn’t bother wasting time preaching about witches, when clearly, devils roamed the earth, and angels were not numerous to counter them, or allowed to.

“Percy, please. Children’s lives could be in danger. If she’s really as bloodthirsty against wizardkind, do you think that their age will stop her zealousness?”

Were children… born as witches? Infected with demons? Percy was under the impression it was an avenue chosen, much like the man before him, like his own wickedness. He’d allowed it to happen, not put up much of a fight, though in the end, had he really wanted to? Could he have hoped to defeat the man before him, who though he looked innocent, was far more dangerous than any other sort he’d encountered in his life, even when on the battlefield.

Right in front of his eyes, the dying flower in the vase on his right hand side bloomed to life again, and his mouth went dry.

“Periculid. They’re said to represent forbidden wants. Dangerous desires.” the man said it offhand, as though transformation and renewing the life of a plant was something that could be done easily, a parlor trick for entertainment’s sake.

“What was it before?”

He’d never heard of the name that Credence had just uttered, and indeed, the flower now was a brilliant shade of crimson, along with such jagged edges as it appeared sharp, and perhaps like it had been cut by a blade.

“A carnation I believe… but that’s dreadfully boring, don’t you think? Besides… pink isn’t really my color. Now this, I can see complimenting a navy suit, or a tuxedo lapel.”

Percy inhaled at the underlying suggestion, looking away from the flower to find the man staring right at him, eyes dropping from his own to follow his lips as they parted, and his tongue wetted them unconsciously.

“You want to see me in a fancy outfit like yours?”

Credence’s mouth twitched into a smile,

“I’d like that very much. If only so I can get you right back out of it.”

Percy nearly choked on his hurried sip of water at that, parching his thirst but threatening to kill him another way, with temptation’s so earnest it made him almost burn with fever again, his cock stirring to life between his legs, and the seat dampened beneath him.

“Oh god.”

“I apologize. I’m not usually so forward. It’s like… you give a man wings once he’s been allowed to knot you. Ahem. Back to business then. How many orphans would you say filter through your church on a weekly basis? Enough to notice someone making repeat visits, or none? Any unusual behavior or activity? Unexplained magical manifestations?”

Percy shook his head at once,

“Maybe a half dozen that change. It’s about the same thirty or so children. I don’t understand what you’re asking me, Mister Barebone.”

The man sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, making the dark waves fall a bit haphazard around his face. God help him, he was beautiful to Percy, painfully so.

“You’re cute when you’re playing the hero. You _are_ the hero, to the kids. I’ve no doubt of it. But if you really want to help them, you _must_ be truthful with me.”

Percy bit his lip, then nodded, setting his fork down to give Credence his full attention.

“What exactly do you want to know?”

* * *

 

Credence was very annoyed with himself, for getting involved with, becoming enamored by, and then being utterly enchanted by a man who he’d only recently, just before fucking, luckily, found out wasn’t a nomaj. Oh, so  _ that  _ was why one tended to bond the first time they knotted. Indeed, the idea of imagining a second time with the man was highly distracting, to the point where he didn’t even want to properly do his job, he just wanted to beg Percy to stab a shoe between his legs, and let him grind against it, before stealing him away to shove down a dark alley, and fuck into a brick wall.

Somehow he pushed through the fog of lust and made note of the information he could glean from the man’s accounts of working with, and being around Mary Lou, taking a few scribbled notes into his notebook, which was spelled to echo back at work, any pertinent details forwarded by automatic memo to the President. He drew in a ragged breath, fighting very hard to ignore his cock, hard and dripping against his thigh, for squeezing his legs together would just make it worse, he knew quite well.

“And I do think, anything action I take could be paid back in the worst way. So I have to be careful, for the sake of my sisters.”

Credence’s heart fractured further inside his chest, and he could almost hear his mind screaming at him. The man before him was already displaying exemplary traits of an Omega, long dormant urges and instincts or not, that was merely further proof of it. Protecting, child rearing, and above all, compassion. A man of the Lord or not, Percy Graves would have been an incredible man to know when he was younger, a role model to live up to, and Credence was grateful to all that had transpired to allow them to meet. 

He didn’t believe in chance, fate, or destiny, but now, he could just be convinced there was a purpose to events falling into place.

“I cannot make you trust me, Percy. But I can swear that you and your family will not be harmed. I will not allow it. If you say they are your sisters, they will be given the same treatment as you. Welcomed with open arms into the wizarding community.”

Damn the consequences.

The accidents around the city needed to be stopped, but with the expanding of the man’s resources for the church, he suspected they would go hand in hand. All that was needed now, was to find a way to carefully deconstruct the Second Salemers, to conquer from within. Dissolving the connection between Mary Lou, her newspaper funders and Percy would be key, and a tracer would be necessary.

“When will you next see her? Does she regularly attend services?”

Percy glanced to his plate, nearly empty, and then nodded.

“As far as I know, she should be there this Wednesday night.”

“Excellent. If you can pass this along, it will be of great assistance to us.”

Credence conjured a coin from inside his coat pocket, and turned it over in his palm, murmuring a simple spell to imbue it with. The token changed from displaying the MACUSA seal to a sculpted face from one of the nomaj currencies, and he held it out to Percy, who eyed it suspiciously.

“It’s not going to bite you. I suspect she will not turn down a voluntary donation, yes?”

Percy blinked, and looked up at him, 

“She demands them. But this is not nearly enough money. I have not been able to scrounge for donations, since I’ve been sick abed. I owe her approximately twenty dollars.”

The way the man said it pained Credence, as if he was afraid to be so bold as to ask for so much money. Well, so much to a  _ nomaj.  _

“Of course. Here.”

He pulled out his wallet and flipped through the bills, uncertain as to which was the correct bill, so he merely handed it all over. It was easy enough to get more, as the conversion rate was astronomical, given the lingering aftereffects of the Depression.

He almost felt guilty at the way the man’s face lit up at the sight, clearly aware of exactly how much money he’d just been handed.

“Sir, Mister Barebone, I cannot in good conscience accept this.”

Credence smiled gently,

“I insist. I trust you. Take me at my word, we will be seeing each other again, very soon.”

He set down a dragot for the meal, and then climbed out of his side of the booth, waiting politely for Percy to do the same, and he did, only after eyeing the foreign, to him at least, coin which Credence had used to pay.

“Are you, uh, well off? Not a player of the stock market, I’d guess?”   
  


Credence laughed aloud at that.

“You’d be correct Percy. My family has been in the possession of nearly half the rural land in the state, since the inception of America. I’m afraid it’s old news at this point, but yes, I am fairly comfortable in my means.”

A quirk of one of the man’s heavy brows told him he was underselling himself, and he bit his lip to stifle another laugh. 

“Land does seem to retain its value better than anything else, even gold or silver, so… your family is smarter than most.”

“I think, that’s a compliment?”

Credence blinked over at Percy, receiving a wry smile for his efforts, and by then they’d reached the corner of the street, across from them, the church stood, demanding the man’s attention.

“I want to thank you, sincerely, for everything.”

It would have been impossible to kiss him, but Credence ached to do nothing less, in lieu of which, he allowed his hand to graze against Percy’s wrist, before smiling a touch softer.

“You’re welcome. It’s been my pleasure, truly. Don’t forget, pass along the coin.”

The man nodded, and Credence inhaled sharply, steeling himself, before turning on his heel, and walking away, while Percy did the same, crossing the street quickly and disappearing into the church. 

Everything in the city paled in comparison to having Percy on his radar, in his radius, as his hands fisted at his sides, he apparated back to his apartment, and scribbled up a page of extra notes before summarily vanishing all his clothing and drawing a bath, hot enough to make his skin sting, and only then did he relax. More whiskey helped, until he was crawling into his bed, amidst crisp cool sheets, each caress of cotton against his skin a reminder that he was alone, always alone. He didn’t even think he could sleep well if he had company, but with Percy in mind, he was very much willing to try it. 

He fell asleep with the man’s face in his mind, and a slight smile on his lips.

The next couple days passed without incident, and he attended work and submitted all his reports in full detail, minus the fact of course that Pastor Graves had turned out to be quite intriguing, and far from all he seemed. Namely his true nature, and how truly neglectful Ilvermorny was becoming with the letter distributions.

 

He was almost able to sleep Wednesday night through the screeching of the floo alert, but not quite. He jerked upright in bed so fast he was certain he’d pulled a muscle, and tugged on his nearest bathrobe on the way out to the living room, finding Seraphina’s glowing face in the grate, stern disappointment evident among her usually lovely features.

“Credence. There’s been an incident… one of the attacks… it demolished the church where the Second Salemers directed you.”

Before he could even think rationally, his blood ran cold, and his palms grew sweaty.

“What?”

“I don’t know what triggered it, but the cause… the source of the other incidents in the past… Credence, it was an Obscurus.”

His mind raced as he tried to put a definition, an explanation to the term, but all he could come up with was an outdated article, a throwaway paragraph from a book about American Magical History, that couldn’t be right.

“Are there any-”

Casualties, dead bodies, injured?

Anything? Any chance that he-

“Three dead in the rubble. All three were nomaj’s. I’m afraid with that comes good and bad news, Credence.”

His hands trembled at his sides, and he wanted to smash something, to throw something into the green flickering fire to make her stop talking, though it would not serve at all a purpose he would enjoy the outcome of.

He squeezed his eyes shut instead, and drew in a ragged breath, feeling more awake and despaired than he ever thought he would at such an early hour,

“What could possibly be any good news from this tragedy?”

Seraphina’s voice softened, and he knew she’d noticed how he was unable to hide his feelings, not that he’d ever been much good at it anyway.

“Your assignment is completed with the death of their leader, the New Salem Preservation Society will no longer be a threat. They’ll most likely be forced to move on, to another city, another state or province at best. New York will be free from their destructive ways and words.”

Right.

The statute of secrecy, all that mattered to her.

No imminent war, no danger.

Except for the innocents caught in the middle.

He blinked, and then chanced a look back at her,

“What about the Obscurus? How old were they? Did they survive?”

Seraphina was biting her lip, then nodding.

“They’re alive yes, about eight years old, I would say.”

“Will they be in any danger?”

Seraphina huffed a sigh,

“I don’t know. There’s no process for this, Credence. I can’t try a  _ child _ for murder, for accidentally unleashing a power they might have not even known existed inside them.  _ This _ is the problem with breaking the law, consequences can be far reaching, further than a momentary fling might seem.”

“What are you talking about?”

Somehow, for some reason, Credence wondered if she had a shred of a clue about what he’d done, not that it mattered, in the eyes of the law, technically, Percy wouldn’t have been a risk to the statute, as he couldn’t be a nomaj, couldn’t even be a squib, they were usually Beta’s by default.

He unclenched his jaw, and stared her down until she looked away.

“The child, they’re the product of a nomaj and a wizard. Both parents are long dead, they were adopted. From what I could gather, that awful woman had been trying to take them away from their family, hoping to indoctrinate them to the cause, perhaps it’s a good thing that they were able to stop things before they-”

“But three people dead? How can you ever say that’s the  _ best _ outcome?”

Credence couldn’t see now, his eyes were glazed with tears, and he furiously wiped them away before turning, considering how bad it would look if he poured himself a drink at four in the morning, in front of the President, talking so cavalierly about Percy being dead. He didn’t give a fuck about that awful  _ woman _ being dead, he’d have done anything to protect the man, and his sisters too. It ate at him, guilt churned in his gut at the thought, the realization, if he’d just tried harder, if he’d insisted they just come stay with him, for the night, the weekend, whatever, a charm, a spell, a shield over the church, he should have done more, should have  _ insisted _ , should have…

Credence collapsed mid step on the way to the cabinet, and fell to the ground, barely catching himself on the couch, wracked by a sob that shook his entire body. It was so stupid, foolish, to think he could have really made a difference, when he had no idea that Obscurial’s could still exist, with three years still to go, three years for Ilvermorny to try and correct their own mistake.

“Credence? Credence, what’s wrong?”

The President actually sounded concerned, and he shook his head, flicking a hand to douse the fire, uncaring what she might do. He wanted to be left alone. He was always alone anyway. 

But the glimmer, the potential for more, now the hope was gone, extinguished just like the green flames. Maybe it was just in his nature to get so easily attached, to have wanted to do all in his power to ensure  _ all _ Omegas, even those who’d grown up thinking they were nothing special could be given the best chance to reach their potential.

He laid there for a good long while, until he’d run out of tears, and his entire face felt damp, skin clammy as he calmed down, just clinging to the armrest, wanting to do nothing more than drown himself in a hot shower, or crawl back into bed, pray for it all to have just been a bad dream, but he couldn’t leave the President, in the end, he could not abandon his duty. Work was all he had now, and _ it _ would never leave him.

He sniffled and slowly stood up, staggering to his room and summoning a cool washcloth for his face, before getting dressed and stepping into his shoes, leaving behind rumpled sheets and the still smoking fireplace, disapparating on the spot outside his front door.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end!! with more smut~

Percy woke up feeling itchy, as if covered by dust, and could taste blood, though when he opened his eyes, he didn’t see anything like he expected to. 

 

Three and a half days after saying goodbye to Credence, he had walked back home, back into the church Wednesday night to find the thing he’d been dreading, his sister’s currently being confronted by Mary Lou and a tall silver haired gentleman he didn’t know, but had a familiar face, and expensive cut suit. 

Modesty had run to him, fled to his side, and looked up at him with tears in her eyes,

“Tell this lady she’s wrong. You would never hurt us. You love us, don’t you brother?”

He’d blinked, and then smiled, brilliant, dazzlingly, just for her, before looking to Chastity, who looked sadly less sure.

“Of course I do. What sort of nonsense has  _ she _ been filling your heads with?”

The woman didn’t deserve her name from him, and he now knew why his sisters hadn’t come home sooner that day, and where they’d been off to during the others, they’d been  _ kept _ from him. Forced to listen to the woman spew her poison, probably telling them all sorts of lies about why they shouldn’t be with him, why he might turn dangerous, as men who’d seen too much overseas would.

Sure. He had his own demons, and much more recently, frightening things he’d learned about himself, but there was the fact he had the devil himself, or something, on his side. If he had to ally with the devil to protect his sisters from a so called woman of God, so be it.

He stepped around Modesty, and tucked her behind himself, moving forward to hold out his hand to Chastity,

“Come along now. We’re leaving. I have somewhere safe for us to go.”

It was a lie, in a way, but he trusted Credence to help them, if they needed. He’d said he could protect them, so Percy would go, would gladly sell his soul if it meant ensuring the girls futures. Mary Lou looked down her nose at him, coldly flicking her eyes to her male companion, who crossed in front of him, blocking Chastity from his view. She seemed to shrink back, and was shaking her head at him. The silver haired man spoke, showing far too many teeth as he did, like some kind of elegantly dressed shark,

“They’re not going anywhere. They’re wards of the state, and Mary Lou has graciously offered them a place in her home, her congregation.”

Percy snorted,

“You mean among crazy people who accuse normal citizens of being witches, or harboring them? What’s next, demon possession? Burning at the stake, or hanging those you suspect of ungodly powers? I don’t need that sort of rhetoric sullying my sisters’ pure and kind hearts. Thank you very much. I’d call the police to make you get off my property, but I somehow suspect you wouldn’t respect their authority over you either.”

His smile was tight, a final show of politeness, and he tried to meet Chastity’s eyes, pleading with her, whatever they might have told her, he’d make it up somehow, he’d help her see that she was so much more than a pawn. An unnatural gleam of silver blocked his way when he tried to push past the man, and he stopped in his tracks, frozen at the sight of the gun.

“I don’t think calling the police would do you any good, don’t you know who I am? I  _ own _ the police. Besides, they’d be taking  _ you _ away in cuffs, you pervert.”

Percy frowned,

“What are you talking about? Throwing some awfully strong words around, aren’t you, Mayor? I think that’s what they call ‘slander.’”

He finally placed the man, he’d been splashed upon front pages, in his father’s paper, that was, and there had even been a banner outside a town hall meeting he had very purposefully avoided attending.

The man’s hand didn't waver on the gun, his smile vanished completely, as Percy saw Mary Lou begin to move, standing in front of Chastity as he had Modesty.

“They don't want to stay with you anymore. Do you, girls?”

Percy’s heart shattered as he heard Chastity agree, though more quietly than he'd ever known her to speak. 

“Why?” His throat was closing up, mouth dry as a bone, and only silence remained. 

Modesty had not answered, not verbally at least. 

There was a small flowering of hope in his gut, and he turned away from the others to face her, finding a most peculiar sight. Her body was dissolving at the edges, her blue eyes now pure white, before his own, she was turning into some kind of avenging angel.

“You will not hurt him!”

Her voice was dark, deep, and not fitting for a little girl. Over the roaring in his ears, the thundering heartbeat that made him feel weak, he dimly caught the sound of a gunshot, but felt no answering pain, no impact. Instead, Modesty herself seemed to explode forward, as a cloud of ash and smoke, black tinged with red, surged against the man holding the gun and Percy dropped to the ground, palms flat to the wood, praying for a miracle.

 

The sound was comparable to a freight train, or perhaps a foghorn, and Percy was shaking, just flat on the ground, as he heard bricks and splinters of pews collapsing in on themselves, crashing to the ground, surrounding him but not touching him. When the dust settled, and he was able to lift his head, he looked around the rubble that once had been his church, their home, all he had in the world besides the clothing on his back. It was in ruins. There was a sound of pain, a scream of agony and he rushed forward, unsure what he would find but knowing he had one mission,  _ protect _ .

Modesty was alive, clothing hanging from her pale shoulders in tatters, with a smear of blood on her cheek, and her blond hair tangled around her face. She was sobbing, and clutching a painfully still figure.

Chastity. 

It seemed when the roof had caved in, she'd been trapped under a beam. Percy hadn't been able to do anything, and Modesty clearly had not been much in control of… whatever she'd done to save him.

“I killed her. I killed our sister…. Brother Percy, please, help me.”

He fell to his knees beside her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a fervent kiss to her temple. 

“I know it was an accident. It's all right. It'll be okay.”

All lies and then some. 

“We need to go. There will be people coming here.”

Modesty hiccuped,

“Police? Are they going to arrest me? Am I going to jail?”

“No! No, sweetheart, if they try, I'll offer myself. It was self defense. That man shot me. Or…he tried to.”

Modesty was nodding, tears dripping off her chin, soaking into the grey tinted fabric of Chastity’s jacket.

Percy stood up, careful, slow and held out his hand to her, and she took it, gently, as if she was afraid she might hurt him.

He picked her up and held her close, letting her bury her face against his collar, as he stepped outside the church, they were met with a dozen figures, clad in long dark coats, holding slim wooden sticks, all looking very solemn. 

He blinked, and then remembered the coin. Credence had given him a manner to be tracked, but he had no idea that it would be used to find and condemn him. He half wished he could have tossed it away, into the street, and refused the man's help, because now, he was facing serious trouble.

“Please set the Obscurus down, and step away, for your own safety sir.”

He frowned at the figure addressing him, a dark haired woman with sad eyes, and a grim tilt to her mouth,

“What are you talking about? My sister isn't a whatsitisus.”

“Sir, please don't make me stun you.”

Modesty was still crying in his arms, otherwise he was a bit concerned she might have reacted... strongly, to such a threat being made against him. For the sake of the crowd in front of him, he hoped she would stop listening for a few moments more.

“We had nothing to do with that.” He gestured broadly to the church with his free hand, and thought he saw the hint of an almost smile from one of the people, before the woman in front of him shook her head.

“Sir, forgive me.” She gave the stick in her hand a slow twirl, and he felt all his limbs freeze, even the one locked around Modesty’s waist, until she looked up and saw what was happening, then she screamed.

 

Everything went black.

 

Until he had come to, in a room overwhelmed by white, the strong smell of antiseptic, medical alcohol and faintly, a spicy smoky scent. Upon trying to sit up he groaned and put a hand to his temples, that were aching, along with a distinct soreness in his back, as if he’d fallen and been unable to catch himself.

“I’m sorry for what happened Mister Graves. We were unaware you also are an unregistered half blood. We don't usually track those. Your little sister, adopted, I'm guessing, is very powerful for her lineage, born of a half blood and a nomaj. I've never seen anything like it. She's a female Alpha. She'll be very successful once she's old enough to go to school. We caught her young enough.”

At that, Percy made to lunge for the woman speaking to him, with such a sense of finality in her words, as if she thought it should be up to  _ her _ what would happen with Modesty.

“‘Caught her?’ Just who do you think you are ma’am?”

She flicked a finger at him, and he fell back against the bed at once, it was merely a hospital cot with typically scratchy sheets, he recognized, before he blinked, and stared at the cuffs which had manifested around his wrists.

“Please. Calm yourself Mister Graves. You're in no danger from me. The child will be given the best of care. We may even send her to Europe, their school specializes in the unusual. I'm afraid Ilvermorny is used to only purebloods attending.”

There were a lot of things still not making sense, namely what the dark skinned woman was talking about, as well as all the talking about blood. Whatever he might have been, Modesty surely wasn't the same. She couldn't be. He was a deviant, a freak of nature, thanks to his submission to the devil. He would not allow her to be dragged down with him. 

_ “Magic, _ Mister Graves. Your ‘ _ sister _ ’ has a great deal of it. She manifested the power just last night it seems, after eight years of it remaining dormant. I assume because she had no use for it, living in a stable and loving home, or church, is that accurate?”

Finally a statement, less an accusation that Percy could agree with. So he nodded just slightly, and the woman smiled a fraction.

“For that, I suppose we owe you thanks. Housing an Obscurus can be a dangerous business, especially if one is unaware of its entire existence.”

“Could you just explain exactly what  _ that _ is?”

The woman did, and then she tilted her head at him, curiously,

“You're an Omega, aren't you? The stress rolls off you in waves. You don't smell fresh though. You've been calmed through a first heat. Not bonded though. Yet you didn't  _ know _ you or your sister was of magical descent.”

Back to accusing, and Percy didn't like such judgement, not without a true way to defend himself.

“I'm not sure what… that has to do with anything.”

“Being objective is my job, while also doing what's best for our people. That's right. You're one of us now, Mister Graves. Welcome to the Wizarding world. I'll let you get back to recovery.”

She got up and walked away, only pausing halfway through the door to flick a hand in his general direction, freeing him from his restraints, but locking the door swiftly once she’d gotten safely outside.

He sighed heavily, and winced at the following pain and soreness. He still didn't fully understand what had happened, but he suspected that whatever Credence had been it wasn't the same as the woman who'd just left his bedside.

She'd said something about Modesty, being an… Alpha. Was it to do with her power? The amount of magic she had?

He was sure of only one thing, he desperately wished for a way to speak to Credence, frustrated as he might have been before, now the danger had passed, and no one seemed to be on the verge of arresting either of them for what had definitely been the cause of multiple deaths. 

He tried to breathe steadily, but his vision was getting blurry again, exhaustion creeping into his bones, stealing his focus and robbing him of consciousness. 

 

*

 

“Credence? Hey, are you doing all right?”

Tina’s voice filled his ears, as her timid footsteps slowed, and he scented her concern. She was usually an excellent Auror when she worked at it, but sometimes, like in the case of the Second Salemers, she let her protective Omegan nature overrule her better judgement. Apparently since Credence had been asleep, not on call the night before, Tina had been ordered to helm the team that investigated the latest incident. He didn't really need to hear about all the death that the stray Obscurus had caused from an unknown provocation. For all he knew, maybe someone had threatened Percy, and one of his sister’s had responded the best way they knew how. The first use of magic for most who grew up knowing and anticipating what they were tended to be transformative, or positive, not something so dark, dangerous and destructive as to level a building, atop three innocents. 

Well, Mary Lou was hardly  _ innocent _ , as she’d been perfectly content to rile nomaj’s up to lead into a second war against Wizardkind. 

He realized Tina was still standing inside his office, leaning on the front of his desk, staring down at him with her dark eyes, on the verge of tears, if he didn't know any better. She wanted a response, and as he was the Director, he couldn't be  _ as _ rude as he felt like being. She didn't deserve his ire anyway, the President didn't either, those who created the archaic and stifling rules of their current society did. Europe might have started the World war, but they still had more going for them in terms of integration of all mankind.

“I'm fine, thank you for asking Tina. How are you? Reinstated from suspension I see. By order of the President. Congratulations.”

“Thank you sir. But that's not an answer.”

He glanced up from where he'd returned to the notes of his report, concluding the investigation of the NSPS.

“What do you want me to say Goldstein? That I'm proud we stopped the entity causing the attacks? That it didn't turn out to be a rogue dark wizard? That I'm happy only  _ three _ nomaj’s died? Huh?”

He slammed his quill down and pulled off his glasses, apologies already tickling the back of his throat, as he heard rather than saw her retreating.

“Sorry for bothering you sir. But you should know, the child and her ah, father, or was it brother...? They're still recovering.  _ They’ll _ be okay. No one else will have to have to suffer. The nomaj’s will make a bigger deal out of having no republican candidate for mayor than the fact that he's dead. Caught with a woman he could have been having an affair with. Juicy gossip is all they really care about.”

Credence looked up so fast he saw Tina flinch, and if his quill hadn't snapped on impact with his desk, it would have been turned to dust in his fist.

“What? What did you just say… about the little girl?”

Tina had retreated, and now was braced against the doorframe of his office, looking mildly worried, 

“Sir, please calm down. You're scaring me.”

He didn't realize that he’d actually just growled at her, until he unclenched his jaw and loosened his fists.

“Sorry Goldstein. I'm just… I knew her brother. I met him… had questions about the organization that he was very helpful answering. If he can receive visitors, I'd like to offer him my thanks.”

‘---And a place to stay, if he needs one.’ He added in his mind, biting his tongue as he awaited her answer.

“Y-you would?”

“Yes. Yes, in fact, I think I’ll take a half day. Ensure this gets to the President.”

He signed the bottom of the page with a flourish, after hurriedly repairing his quill, and then got to his feet, summoned his coat, and handed the folder to Tina with a wry smile, ignoring her open mouthed stare.

It was like champagne bubbles were popping under the surface of his skin, replacing his dread with a faint welling of hope, and he walked faster, nearly sprinting outside the spinning doors of MACUSA, halting mid step when he found it to be pouring down rain. He didn’t get his wand up in time to prevent getting soaked before he disapparated, and so, arrived at the hospital lobby along with a puddle forming from running off his coat, long hair plastered to his face, and attempting to blind him as he approached the front desk.

“Hello. I’m-”

“Director Barebone? Yes. The President sent word you’d be coming. It’s room 79, hall thirteen.”

The woman behind the desk was smiling, and he wasn’t quite sure why, unless it was because his appearance was less intimidating and more hilarious, as he was, he suspected the latter. Casting a drying charm was easy enough, but it didn’t help the depressing state of his hair, which he attempted to fluff up in the front and smooth down in the bacl. He was ten steps away from the proper numbered door, and it hit him, a wave of distress and need, forcing a growl out of his throat, an automatic Alpha response, spurring him on, through the door, to find Percy flat on his back, already kicking off his sheets and halfway to getting out of bed.

“You’re okay!”

Credence didn’t think about it, he didn’t have to, he practically tackled the man back onto the bed with the force of his embrace, pressing his nose into the curve of his neck, and breathing deep, as the relief that burst forth afterwards was almost palpable, and he could feel Percy trembling beneath him.

“I am now.”

They clung to each other for a long moment, until Credence remembered himself, what they were and weren’t, and how he needed to say a few things, the least of which was, he was extremely sorry for not doing more. Of the three nomaj deaths, one had been someone Percy cared about and for.

“I’m-”

“No. I know. It’s okay. There was nothing you could have done. Please, don’t beat yourself up over it, please?”

Percy was rubbing a hand down his face, wiping away frantic tears Credence hadn’t even noticed, but they explained the shaking, the silent sobs. He found himself caressing the man’s cheek, thumb brushing against a line of wetness that vanished into the dark shadow of Percy’s beard.

“Okay. I won’t. But do know this, if you wish it, you are both more than welcome to stay with me. My house, it’s yours to command.”

He pulled back to lock eyes with the man, so he could know Credence’s level of sincerity, but he only found confusion among the darkness.

“But why? You’ve got my soul, surely, what more can I do? I just need to get better, back on my feet, and find a way to rebuild the church… start over… beg for forgiveness from the Lord…”

Percy trailed off, and stared off over Credence’s shoulder, looking lost in despair, making him feel on the verge of tears of his own.

“No… no Percy, what are you talking about? Do you think me of the Devil? You’re  _ just _ like me. We’re both the same… wizards, and  _ you _ , you’re infinitely more than that. You’ve such compassion and courage, bravery beyond words, by caring for an Obscurus, why, she saved your life better than any shield charm by a competent wizard or witch could have done.”

He waited, watching and hoping all by himself,  _ willing _ Percy to understand, to know, to sense he was safe. With a jolt Credence realized shockingly, they could be kept under his  _ fond  _ care, as long as the man wanted it.

Credence held perfectly still, his heartbeat slowing to a crawl, as he saw Percy leaning in, eyes becoming half lidded and lips parting to allow his tongue to wet them,

“You mean… I get to keep my soul, and Heaven, even if I want you, more than I thought I could?”

Credence just nodded, and he could taste the man’s breath on his mouth, felt its tickling warmth over his skin, as he inhaled, their lips met, and his heart started up again. The kiss deepened when he curled his hand around Percy’s neck, keeping him close and wanting him to be secure, surrounded by his scent. 

“You’re… you’re so strong, even though you look…”

“Breakable?”

Percy nodded, cheeks turning pink, obvious even with his general pallor returning to a healthy tone.

He smelled like medicine and rubbing alcohol, but beneath that, Credence could pick out orange, and a hint of sweetness, sharp, tangy, like they’d fed him apples on the verge of becoming cider.

“I assure you, I’m far from it.”

“I know that,  _ now _ .”

“So… you’ll come stay with me? While you recover? I can help with the church too. If the bank tries to take it once our team has repaired it, I’ll fund it. Whatever you need. You can pay me back when you’re able.”

“Are you sure you want to host me and my sister? We’re not high society folks…”

“Shh-hh. Stop it.”

“I don’t even know where she is. They haven’t let me see her.”

Credence bit his lip, and sighed,

“There’s a very good chance you may not be able to… until the summer. She’ll be kept under strict observation and with the best of care… in England. St Mungo’s is the best wizarding hospital in the world, but here, why, they haven’t seen anything like her in a century, or more.”

Percy was nodding, but hardly appeared mollified, and Credence’s heart broke for him, he could practically  _ feel _ the man’s concern, like it was his own, rippling out of him, affecting his scent, his very self.

Even if the President hadn’t yet authorized it, Credence suspected it would be the most likely outcome. There was no question of extracting the obscurus, not when the host could easily grow into it, and still manage her own power, having a stable house to return to, during breaks from school would be more helpful than any medicine or spell that existed on earth, Credence knew it.

With a figure like Percy to instruct her and care for her, she would do well.

Credence selfishly, wanted nothing more than to be part of it all, to stay at Percy’s side and-

“Did you hear me?”

He ducked his head and felt a sheepish grin overtake his face, 

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

The irony was not lost on him, as he shook himself, only to find Percy staring right at him, mainly at his hair, before one of his hands carded through it, and Credence found himself leaning into the touch, craving it like air.

“Oh… nothing really. Just that you look stunning, like a dashing prince out of a fairy tale. Yet you’re here for  _ me, _ no fair maidens in sight.”

Credence’s eyes snapped back to Percy’s, from where they’d drifted closed, and he found the man staring at his mouth, so he licked his lips, and was granted another searing kiss, concerns mainly thrown to the wayside in favor of savoring that, just that, for now.

 

* * *

 

Percy walked around the living room, and dragged a hand over the nearest bookshelf, letting his fingers tickle the spines, wondering which one would call out to him, demand to be read. Would he be able to learn spells, to wield his magic he still didn’t quite understand? He wasn’t sure, no matter how much Credence told him he had absolute faith in him. Faith, was one thing, trust, another entirely.

“So you don’t have a bible?”

He turned to the younger man, where he was in his kitchen, preparing them both a drink, a sort of  _ ‘welcome home’ _ toast, Credence had said, that was the occasion that called for it. Although he suspected that judging by the size of the man’s liquor cabinet, it took very little to make something into a drinking moment.

“Well, as a rule, I tend to avoid things that look down on my very being. Witchcraft is mentioned a lot, and always in a negative light, so, you see, it does not earn a space in my library.”

Percy swallowed thickly, and then nodded. It made perfect sense, now that he thought about it, though he did not feel compelled to denounce his faith, he could change it, adapting to his new circumstance.

“Join me on the balcony, won’t you? It’s so nice out.”

Credence swept past him, and Percy followed, helpless in the wake of his compelling scent, and there, as he was, in the man’s home, he could hardly refuse further hospitality, though he knew he could easily decline, and beg off to sleep, but he wouldn’t.

Their fingers met when Credence passed him his glass, it was more water and ice than whiskey, as he’d not had liquor since the war, back in the days when it was whatever passed for gin or vodka in a rusty flask, and a shiver ran down his spine. The setting sun was flattering to Credence, and kind to him, as he felt he more resembled a hobo who’d accidentally caught the attention of a rich gentleman, and was planning to play the part of aging rentboy. Of course, every light made Credence beautiful, but finding the strength to put those thoughts and feelings to words was the hardest thing he’d ever done. So he remained silent, and let the younger man talk instead. Until he wasn’t, and his glass was burning cold against his palm, demanding he at least attempt to drink it. He swallowed it in three gulps, and felt the harshness threaten to make him cough, but Credence’s fingers grazing over his now empty hand stilled the urge.

“You’re so quiet. It makes me wonder what you’re thinking. Would you ever possibly consider allowing me to-”

“Yes.”

He didn’t even know what Credence had been about to say, but judging by the darkening of his eyes, brown becoming overrun with black, he had an inkling.

“Percy… Tell me what to do. Name it, and I’ll perform to the best of my ability. I do not wish this to be about  me .”

He was so close that Percy could taste the smoky bitterness of the whiskey, which had already long faded from his own tongue, washed away by melted ice, and he smiled, gentle, slow, letting a hand rise up to cradle Credence’s sharp jawline, marveling at the smoothness of skin.

“Everything. What we did before… it all felt amazing. Until this moment, now it’s all I can think about when I’m in bed at night. I want to have your hands on me, feel your mouth over my body, anywhere and everywhere.”

Credence made a sound, low and deep in his throat, possessive and needy, as Percy felt his cock harden near instantly, while the seat of his pants grew damp, wetness began to trickle down his thighs.

“Fuck. Percy, I want to eat you alive.”

He nosed in, nuzzling into Percy’s palm, and pressed his lips to the center of it, before surging forward, almost forcing him backwards from the strength of his kiss.

Credence was a deceptively strong man, when he wanted to be, and Percy didn’t even try to resist, he melted into it, a latent urge to fall to his knees nudging at the back of his mind, though he was led on his feet to the nearest flat surface that  _ wasn’t _ a couch. The edge of the bed bumped into the back of his legs, and the kiss broke just so that he could try and wrestle his way out of his shirt, only to be stopped by a slim fingered hand over his own broad palm, with a murmured,

“Magic, remember?”

Credence’s lips were grazing against his neck and tickling his ear, before a wet press of tongue made him let out a moan that was replaced by a gasp when the same hand dropped to wrap around his cock, suddenly bared, thanks to both of their clothing being vanished.

He hadn’t even realized he was  _ dripping _ , and Credence’s little noise that pressed into his throat as he kissed down Percy’s chest made his entire body quiver.

“What… what are you doing?”

Credence was now the one kneeling, and he tilted his head up to Percy, his long dark hair falling in waves down his pale back,

“Worshiping you.”

He licked his lips and then closed the distance between his mouth and Percy’s cock, the wet warmth enough to make his own knees buckle. But luckily, the bed caught him, and Credence followed easily, both hands splayed over his thighs, to keep them spread, and fingers gripping hard enough to bruise, so his hips wouldn’t buck up, no chance of accidentally choking him.

Percy stared at the ceiling until his eyes were forced shut from the sheer amounts of sensation, his climax fast approaching, he could feel the sheets becoming soaked from the slick rippling out of him, before then there was a touch there. Credence had let his cock slip out of his mouth, in favor of kissing and licking down, humming into the skin between his opening and his sack.

“Please, touch me…”

Percy sat up slightly and looked down to find Credence moving his other hand to stroke his cock, before he felt the younger man’s lips right over the hottest part of him. That was when Credence’s  _ tongue _ dipped inside, and all Percy’s control faltered, as his hips moved just enough to thrust into the heavy palm, he was spilling over his stomach and chest, and more slick escaped him, only to be dutifully cleaned away by the younger man’s mouth.

“My favorite thing is watching you do that, I think.”

He heard Credence say, as if from a distance, and he couldn’t help smiling, dazed as he felt, with the strong urge to remain very still overpowering any want to move to reciprocate or try and perform.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank  _ you _ .”

“Will you… be inside me next?”

“I’m content to wait for you to recover...feeling you come around me is just as nice as  _ making _ you come.”

Credence was sort of… petting his thighs, letting him catch his breath, and feel how his semen began to cool over his skin, itching slightly, though the slick between his legs didn’t seem to slow down at all.

“But aren’t you aroused?”

“Oh, very. Would you like to feel?”

Percy didn’t mean to let out a whimper, but perhaps it was unavoidable, unconscious, when Credence crawled onto the bed to bring his cock level with his eyes, stroking it almost lazily, it made his mouth water. He’d never wanted anything in his life as much as he wanted to taste Credence, in that moment.

“May I?”

His hand faltered as he reached for it, and Credence’s brows met adorably in confusion,

“Are you sure?”

Percy hummed in acknowledgement, and then leaned in and up close enough to graze his lips over the shiny red tip. The reaction from Credence was a low moan, and fingers curled into his hair almost instantly, dragging him closer, urging Percy to try and take the head of it into his mouth. Gladly, he opened wide as he could and let Credence carefully press inside.

The flavor exploding over his tongue was like nothing he’d ever known, but the closest thing he could compare it to was dark chocolate, bittersweet and viscous, far from how he thought semen tasted.

Perhaps it was because of Credence’s kind, his classification as Alpha meant his seed was more potent, or more intense.

“Percy, you’re going to make me knot from just this…”

Credence’s voice sounded strained, and he looked on the verge of coming, so Percy withdrew, and his eyes widened at how the base of his cock had become swollen, too big to even try to wrap his hand around.

“What’s that?”

Credence’s breath left his chest in a stutter,

“Oh… oh you were pretty out of it, weren’t you? Um, this is what happens before  _ I  _ can come. It’s  a big showy process, which can result in, certain things, if it’s during a rut for me. Obviously it’s not right now. Otherwise I wouldn’t dream of taking you without any sort of protection charm or contraception spell.”

Percy blinked,

“What?”

Credence’s cheeks went pink, nearly as dark as the head of his impressive cock,

“It’s a...you, like, as an Omega, could potentially… you know, it’s not really pillow talk. It’s not important right now. How about another orgasm?”

Percy opened his mouth to argue, and instead found himself moaning as Credence put his hand to his cock, shortly before applying his mouth to it again, bent at such an angle as to allow a perfect view of his pale and plush behind. 

It was far too tempting to resist touching, so he put a firm hand on it, and squeezed, earning a hum against his length, vibrating through his body, and spurring him close to finishing again, though Credence had barely done a thing. In fact, his hand had left Percy’s cock to dip between his legs, then a finger nudged into his slick opening, and rubbing someplace that threatened to force his eyes shut before he came.

“Credence…”

The younger man used his free hand to keep touching him, practically beaming over at him, 

“Yes?”

“You’re too good for me.”

A thumb swiped over the head of his cock, combined with a press of a second finger inside him, as his back arched from the climax screaming through him, he thought he heard Credence growl out, “Impossible.”

His hand went slack over Credence’s backside, and he let his aftershocks crash over him, like gentle waves buffeting against his body. When it all slowed down, he dimly felt lips kissing his own, and he opened his eyes to find the younger man looming over him, dark hair caressing his skin,

“Percy. Would you be mine? I know, asking you to stay with me could be interpreted as a merely philanthropic gesture, but I want more. Please, tell me if you feel the same?”

“How are you so coherent?”

He croaked out, and Credence’s leg draped over him, as his slender hips nudged against his thigh, he could feel the hot insistent press of his cock, leaving wetness over his skin, over every inch of his still tingling body.

“Because I need to know! I’m sorry. I’ve never felt like this before… half mad with lust, and frantic to please. It’s like… it’s how  _ you _ should be. I should be cool and aloof, but I’m not. I’m hopeless, and besotted.”

Percy’s hand trembled as he reached up to stroke Credence’s cheek, and his dark eyes closed, long lashes sweeping down,

“My beautiful fairy tale prince… don’t despair. I’m just as lost, drowning in my feelings for you. Not so great with words, I’m afraid. I make a pretty terrible man of God, don’t I?”

Credence’s face turned so he could kiss Percy’s hand again, and he choked on a sob, even as he smiled,

“You’re wonderful.”

“Go on then, make me yours.”

Percy was breathless with anticipation, so he scooted back, and let his legs fall open, enjoying how it made Credence’s throat bob when he swallowed. The younger man carefully moved to kneel before Percy, dragging a hand down from his neck to his navel, sliding around to caress his hip, as if Credence was trying to ground himself, before daring to get any closer.

“Percy… I haven’t prepared you properly… it might hurt.”

“It’s okay.”

Benediction and consummation were not meant to be painless, whether for the mind, the body, or the soul, so it mattered little.

Percy simply clung to Credence the second he pushed forward, sinking his cock inside with an obscenely wet sound, and his own hips stuttered with every thrust, as their lips met again, he could feel the younger man’s heartbeat speed up.

“It’s good, so good…”

“I know.”

Credence broke apart from the kiss to press their foreheads together, and pant for air, while Percy braced his legs against his slim waist, and dug his heels into the bed for stability. There was a slight burn, and increasing sting, as Credence went still, and Percy knew it was for the final step, the knot, as the younger man had called it, but he was fairly distracted. The second Credence had stopped moving, he put one of his hands on Percy’s cock, jerking hard and fast, and pulling him into another climax. He shuddered against Credence, and felt the younger man curse before Percy actually heard it, lost as he was in a haze of pleasure, 

“Fuck… Percy, I could get used to this.”

Credence’s lips found his neck, and suckled the skin long enough to leave a mark, before soothing the spot with his tongue, and then cuddling into his chest, slowly withdrawing his now spent cock from Percy’s sore opening.

A combination of slick and semen steadily oozed out, though his hole tried in vain to close, he suspected it would take a few hours before he could fully recover.

Credence remained over him, pressed against the length of his bare body as they both caught their breath, and Percy found himself idly petting over the younger man’s back, fingers drawing mindless shapes over the smooth skin.

“You can.”

“Hmm? I can what?”

Credence didn’t so much as ask, but mumble, and Percy smiled, a laugh bubbling its way out of his throat.

“If you want me to stay, I will. Then you  _ can _ get used to this. But if there’s a way for you to make an honest man out of me, in this new, dazzling world of ours, you probably should. Help me avoid awkward questions from my sister, you know?”

“Are you hinting you would prefer a ring to a church from me?”

Credence shifted up on an arm to look at him, and Percy grinned wider,

“If you’re offering…”

“I only ask one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Shave this, so I can teach you how to kiss properly, without risk of beard burn.”

Percy would have rolled his eyes, but he could admit when it was time to try something new, so he shrugged, and then nodded, bending a leg to carefully flip Credence onto his back, making his hair spill onto the sheets, giving more truth to the dark angelic that he had originally seemed to be born from.

“If that’s all you want… consider it done, Mister Barebone.”

“Come now, don’t tease me. I’ll beg prettily enough when I think I can go again.”

Percy did laugh at that, for certainly there could be nothing more arousing than Credence, desperate to have his cock ridden. In fact, Percy decided that next time,  _ he  _ wanted to be on top. He wondered if that had ever been done in such couplings as theirs, but didn’t ask, preferring to wait, and make it a surprise. He smiled to himself as he felt Credence’s breathing slow, letting sleep claim them both.

 

* * *

**end**

 


End file.
